Tiebreaker
by Prosopopeia
Summary: Post-manga, HiruSena: Get ready for the longest game in history.
1. Chase

Hello to the fandom! I'm just humbly offering a HiruSena piece to the collective! Divided into two parts. Long, but bearable hopefully? xD

_Disclaimer: Me don't own Eyeshield 21, k?_

--

**Tiebreaker**

First Half**  
**

--

_Beginnings can be so fucking misleading_

--

The kick off occurred in his second year of college as soon as Kobayakawa Sena returned to Japan.

There was the first match against Koigahama University and Hiruma knew something had changed in that moment when Sena stepped onto the field. It'd been a good year since he'd seen him personally, and the unexpected thrill that went through Hiruma's body at that initial sighting was telling. He told himself it was only because he was looking forward to the challenge—and Kobayakawa Sena would no doubt be the most difficult challenge he'd come across yet—but it was more than that still.

When their respective teams finally came to clash in the finals, Hiruma realized what it was about number 21 that drove him to claim victory so fervently. It was written in the way Sena moved on the artificial field. That seamless run and underlying power had always caught Hiruma's eye, but it wasn't the impressive physicality that had stolen away his concentration now. While part of Hiruma still thought about the game, there was another part of him that desired to face Sena in a decidedly alternate form of confrontation. He didn't know how he managed to lead Saikyoudai to victory that day, but he wasn't even fazed by the post-game celebration. All his attention was on his former running back.

Hiruma had went by his whole life with only the desire to climb to the top as his main objective. Being with the Devil Bats had softened his manner a little, but no form of distraction would have sidetracked him. He had thought for a while that maybe, just maybe, he felt something for a certain Student Council rep, but those thoughts were swept aside as soon as Sena returned from America. Whether or not it was the more pronounced self-assurance or just the gradual procession into manhood, there was something about Sena that had called away all his focus in very unproductive manners.

There had been a celebratory dinner at a sushi bar that night. Hiruma couldn't even remember the name of it since it wasn't him who planned it. Mamori the fucking manager had decided the occasion was worth a little extra partying and the freshmen members of the team were all gung ho for the idea. Hiruma had been unwillingly dragged by Juumonji—the fucking brat reminded him of Musashi a little too much sometimes—and had resolved to spending the evening gathering information on their opponents for the Rice Bowl.

Then fate intervened in the form of Enma University's very finest entering the same restaurant. Even though they had lost the finals that afternoon, the team members were all true sportsmen and didn't begrudge Saikyoudai one bit. The two teams conglomerated around four large tables and began exchanging tales like old friends—which many of them were. It had been a spectacular game. The victor could have easily been Enma if Agon's last kick hadn't got in. The distance had been fifty yards. Agon was a formidable athlete but even his success rate wasn't nearly on par with Musashi or Koutarou's.

Hiruma remembered how the twins came together on the field at the finish of the game. No words were exchanged but there was an easy smile on Unsui's face and Agon's glare wasn't anywhere near as menacing as usual. The first year had been tough for the two. Agon had all but turned a blind eye on his brother as Unsui slowly climbed the ladder to join the top. But with this last game, though… Unsui had _made _Agon acknowledge him, and Hiruma knew that the only person probably happier about this fact than Unsui was Agon himself. Of course the evil genius would never say anything. He only gripped Unsui's head and mocked him for losing. But everyone could tell the words lacked any real bite.

So there they were. The twins sat beside each other at one table, Unsui smiling and more relaxed than anyone had ever seen him, and Agon with his usual silence—the threatening aura around him temporarily displaced by the presence of his brother. Hiruma recalled how Ikkyuu was cracking jokes with Monta and Koutarou nagging Akaba for playing his guitar in the middle of eating.

And even though Hiruma was all too aware of Sena's attendance, he was still taken aback when the running ace himself suddenly appeared before him. About two hours had passed and alcohol had somehow entered the mix on the table. The result was a mess. Despite Mamori's best efforts, more than half the people were at least tipsy while the rest were simply drunk. She had been trying to stop the flow of drinks for half an hour before finally giving up. Suzuna had more than happily offered to share her drink and a little while later, both of them were laughing with as much abandon as their teammates. Hiruma had barely noticed the disastrous effects until Sena showed up at his side, disrupting his quiet corner.

It was probably due to residual energy from that day's earlier game, but it was as if Hiruma's nerves had been electrified when his eyes landed on Sena. All thoughts on the Rice Bowl fled his mind as the younger man stared hazily at him. The collar of his shirt was slightly undone and a pleasant flush colored his face. Hiruma shouldn't have felt so mesmerized by the sight, but there was no taking his eyes off the smaller figure in front of him. It was primal desire and Hiruma had never felt such a strong force in his entire life. But the one to make the first move hadn't been him. It was Sena who closed the distance between them with soft and unsure lips. The smell of alcohol filled Hiruma's nostrils and he could even taste it in Sena's mouth. The kiss was chaste and rough and there was no skill involved at all, but Hiruma felt like his entire body was on fire.

He hadn't been the one who was drunk that night, but it was him who took Sena's lead and went the full distance in the near future.

--

_Because losing isn't an option_

--

"You really are insane."

Those are the first words Musashi says to Hiruma when he graduates from Saikyoudai. It takes him four years to graduate. Four years of college level football. Three years of fighting against the best runner in Japan. When he meets with Musashi for lunch one day after graduating—nearly six weeks after _he _leaves—his friend has no trouble pointing how stupidly he thinks Hiruma is behaving.

Their coffees sit on the table completely forgotten. Musashi glares at Hiruma and for the first time in a long time, he's actually angry with the demonic blond.

"I'm not surprised you let him go. You would be the last person to stop him from fulfilling his potential. I'm not even surprised you didn't tell him how you feel—that's just how you are. I'm not surprised at all by any of this and yet… I'm still disappointed in you."

The words are brutally honest and Hiruma knows Musashi's not exaggerating. And considering what they shared in the past, Musashi has all the right to feel let down. It's an odd situation for both of them. Their roles are now utterly reversed; it's Hiruma turn to feel like he left something behind. But it isn't what he's left behind—it's what he's let escape. He's just starting to suffer the repercussions of his actions so the shock hasn't really sunk in, but he knows it'll come later.

Hiruma spins his cup around counterclockwise. The black-brown liquid ripples gently with the motion. If time could only go back. Hiruma stops. He's starting to sound like Kurita. God, he really did screw up this time. He takes a slow sip. The coffee is lukewarm, but it does the job in snapping his brain back into real time. He glances at Musashi. The unfaltering gaze is still on him.

"You think I don't understand how you feel?" he asks. His tone is calm but the underlying frustration doesn't go unheard by Musashi. Hiruma wants to slam his fist against the table, but he doesn't. He glares only right back at his friend. "Don't fucking lecture me, old man. I know _exactly _what I let go."

The uncharacteristic display of open emotion mollifies Musashi's anger. It's rare for him to ever get riled up by anything, but Hiruma's recent behavior is vexing to say the least. He only wants the best for him but nothing is easy when it comes to Hiruma. Musashi sometimes doesn't know how Kurita managed to spend all that time alone with him when he first left Deimon. Hiruma doesn't make it easy for anyone to be close to him on a personal level. Musashi's the only one who came closest. Then there's Kobayakawa Sena.

"Why did you do it?"

Hiruma doesn't look at him. Something tugs in Musashi's heart. A while ago, it could have been him. When they first met, it was like lightning. The attraction was mutual and being as young as they were, they only messed around here and there. But then his father fell ill. Instead of severing the ties, the accident proved only to strengthen their bond. When Musashi returned to the team, all their messing around in the past finally reached a consummation.

It was an easy relationship. Both of them knew it wouldn't last forever and they milked it for all its worth until the Hakushyuu match. By then it was clear to both parties that friendship was the best option. The metaphorical "split" had occurred just as easily as their coming together. It was a wordless agreement and no one suffered any grievances. Musashi doesn't regret the decision, but he can't help but wonder from time to time on what could have been. Nevertheless, he knows that if he and Hiruma had been the real deal, they would have gotten back together a long time ago. Looking at the blond sitting before him, Musashi _knows _they had made the right choice.

"It's the wrong time. Always the wrong fucking time."

Hiruma grins with all his usual carefree attitude. Musashi can see the strain it causes him.

"But you know… A mistake only stays that way if you don't do anything about it. Have you ever known me to make mistakes, old man?"

It's a subtle statement and Musashi can't help but smile. There it is. Hiruma's the single most difficult person to read—even by his closest friends—but there's no denying that underneath his cool exterior there exists a fighting spirit that drives him to succeed even against the worst odds. Seeing that spirit reignite is the reason why Musashi's here, and he's more than relieved now.

"Sometimes I don't know why I worry," he comments. He gestures for a fresh batch of coffee. The waitress refills their cups immediately.

Hiruma crosses his legs smoothly. The frustration is gone. Musashi knows that Hiruma's about to enter full tactician mode. He begins to feel vaguely sorry for Sena.

"Get ready for the longest game in history," announces Hiruma, eyes determined.

--

_Happiness is fleeting_

--

Lips trailed over a naked chest, the skin smooth and pale. A small hand cupped him from below. A surprised gasp was released. Then a low chuckle.

"Someone's hasty…"

There wasn't any response—not that Hiruma had been expecting it. These entanglements he and Sena shared… Even he didn't know how and when it started. For a man who treasured strategy and tactics, this affair had come from out of nowhere and should have upset him. But Hiruma had yet to experience any real regret. He ran his hand through Sena's hair, feeling the dark locks slip between his fingers. Then tugging hard, he forced Sena to look up at him.

"You're different from usual," he said bluntly. Sena only leaned up and kissed him lightly on the lips.

Hiruma knew what Sena wanted. But he wasn't going to do anything until Sena said so. The running back had apparently followed him back to his apartment; no one knew where Hiruma lived. He was impressed Sena had managed to keep himself hidden. Hiruma was an expert at hiding his trail—and he always knew when he was being followed. But as soon as he stepped through his apartment door, there he was standing behind him. Cold and unwavering. For a second, Hiruma felt as if he was on the field again with Eyeshield 21 poised to tackle him.

And that was when the fun began.

Sena moved over Hiruma's stomach while tugging on his belt impatiently. Grinning slowly, Hiruma stayed his hand.

"Tell me what you want," he ordered. There wasn't a single edge in his command. It was the gentlest demand Hiruma ever made. It was almost a request.

Sena was listening to him now, though. That was good. As much as Hiruma appreciated the undivided attention Sena had poured over his body since following him back to the apartment, the silence was perturbing. Sena was never completely quiet. He was also never this direct. Five years had given him plenty of confidence, but Sena's reservation was innate and often led him to hesitate before acting—something that had driven Hiruma insane more often than once. He should have felt grateful that Sena was taking control, but Hiruma knew that there was an altogether different reason for his companion's boldness tonight. It was probably for that same reason why he himself was so yielding.

"I want you to take me," replied Sena finally. Piercing eyes hit Hiruma. "Hard. Fast. Don't hold back."

That last bit came out certain. Hiruma felt his heart quicken. There was genuine appeal in Sena's behavior, but this was wrong. He took Sena's chin and tilted that closed expression upwards.

"This is nothing more but a pity fuck. You really want that?" he said sharply. No sugarcoating was necessary. Sena was used to his cold honesty. Hiruma wouldn't have censored himself for anyone in the world. "I don't mind but… I don't like being used, you know. What's in it for me?"

He was trying to get Sena to speak. To get the damn kid to spill his emotions. But Hiruma knew that if nothing else, his former kouhai had learned to retain his composure even under the most severe duress. It was frustrating and admirable at the same time.

The faintest hint of despair flashed in Sena's eyes. It was gone before Hiruma could even blink. The hand gripping him tightened gently. Even through the denim, that pressure was scalding; Hiruma swore to himself as he felt himself growing harder under Sena's careful touch. The look in his eyes was hot and sultry; it sent another invisible chill down Hiruma's spine.

"I'd make it worth your wildest expectations," Sena said in a low tone that didn't sound like him at all. It was dangerous and dark. Damned if Hiruma didn't respond to _that_.

He was going to regret it. Hiruma knew that even as he abandoned his caution and began to move in on the smaller body sprawled out so openly for him. Not just this time. In fact, this may have been the first time it was okay to do this. Sex offered closure and companionship even if only for a short-lived moment. Sena needed that more than anything right now—and he had come to Hiruma for that sanctuary. And if he was honest to himself, Hiruma would have admitted that he needed a friend right now too. The accident was affecting both their minds and Hiruma needed the relief as badly as Sena. But all the other times…

As Sena's soft moans and gasps filled the night air, Hiruma couldn't help but wonder what the hell he was doing. But then there was that amazing tightness wrapping him from all around and a flash and he forgot everything.

Watching Sena fall into an easy slumber beside him, Hiruma closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Something had changed again, and for the life of him he didn't know if it was good or bad.

--

_Don't bother trying if you think it's not worth it_

--

Hiruma knows without fail this is his most ambitious plan yet.

When he first signed the lease for the office space that would soon become his new company, he almost couldn't believe how much time had already passed. It's taken a whole year of planning and organizing to get even this far and the goal still isn't within reach. He knows Musashi has questions. Even Kurita has commented on his roundabout methods. It's a far cry from his usual forcefulness, and that's why Hiruma is keeping the reason to himself. Sometimes he's not even sure he knows. Plans and strategies have always been his way of life and he doesn't even think about it consciously anymore. But something like this is beyond anything he's ever done. Hiruma enjoys the challenge of course. He just hopes it's not all for naught. Then again, even though this company is for the purpose of obtaining that one goal, it's also a double blessing. Hiruma doesn't want to consider the possibility of losing, but the company will still be standing in the end and provide a stable support should anything happen.

It's funny how every essential thing in his life revolves around one American sport.

What began as a pastime has morphed into a driving force. Hiruma can't contemplate on the risks for long because that's not how it works. He's fought his way to the top and he's not about to topple over any time soon. This game isn't just about him anymore. It's reminiscent of the time when he and Kurita waited for Musashi to return to them, but that game had been a vastly different one. The cards had been placed by Hiruma, but it was his busybody running back and receiver who played them. Thinking about this amuses him. Even back then he had always been unusually lenient with the brat. He never placed so much trust in one person as he did Kobayakawa Sena—and that was even before they met again in college.

He's the only one Hiruma will ever place that much faith in again. It's an irreplaceable gift and not something Hiruma can offer to someone else. Sena has too much of it already so it has to be him. It's always been him.

Hiruma looks over the empty office. The floors and ceiling will have to be refitted. Musashi's already offered him a considerable deal and Hiruma knows he'll be accepting it. He walks over to the window. The summer heat doesn't reach the air conditioned building, but Hiruma can see the air sizzling outside. The cars move sluggishly through the early evening traffic and children are running on the sidewalks with ice cones in hand. Straight ahead the golden sun descends behind the horizon and the sky canvas is all red and purple hues.

He catches his reflection against the glass. The blond is gone. In order to take the big step into the professional sphere, he's had to retreat to his natural roots. The hair is still as messy as ever, but cut shorter. This combined with his sleek suit almost makes him out to be a completely different person. Hiruma touches his right ear. The piercings remain, however. They are the one reminder of his past that he refuses to give up. The tiny studs are barely noticeable but Hiruma knows his business associates talk about them during meetings. He only snickers to himself; he's the boss of his company so it's only fair he's allowed this leeway.

"Muukyaa! This place is _empty_!"

"Is this really going to be a company? Seems small."

"Ahaha! The small space saves money!"

"That…oddly sounds smart. Something's wrong here."

"Did I ask for any opinions, fucking kouhai?"

Hiruma turns around and sees Monta gesturing wildly at him. "We're not your kouhai anymore!" he exclaims proudly. He crosses his arms haughtily whilst Juumonji shakes his head at him.

Taki laughs and winks at Monta. "Monsieur Monta is confident!"

"For no reason at all," Juumonji adds with a teasing smirk.

Monta coughs into his hand discretely. Yukimitsu looks at Hiruma.

"Why did you ask us over, Hiruma-kun?" he asks.

This question manages to settle everyone and four pairs of eyes land on Hiruma. He shrugs casually. "Why indeed. Let's just say I have some requests from you guys…"

It's like they're back in high school. The wary and semi-afraid expressions that stare back at Hiruma make him grin. He pulls out a switchblade from his sleeve and spins it expertly in his hand. A useless skill, but it keeps his hands busy. Hiruma can't ever stay completely still.

"The recent graduates will eventually form their own semi-pro leagues I'm sure." He looks at Juumonji and the blond nods slowly in affirmation. Hiruma breaks into a full-toothed smile that still manages to send goose bumps down his companions' arms. "Excellent. I could use your cooperation. My company's just getting off its back you know. Online promotions and advertising aren't gonna cut it forever. And since you guys are fresh out of school and probably looking for jobs…"

In the end, they don't get a say in the matter. But it's not the like they were really gonna try anyway.

--

_Peace—it's not as boring as it sounds_

--

It was hot.

That was the first thought that came to Hiruma's mind as he opened bleary eyes. He was wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. For a second, he could only stare at the pastel colors in bemusement. He definitely didn't own such bright things. Hiruma began to sit up and started when a cold compress slid off his forehead. So that was it. He remembered feeling a little under the weather the night before, but persisted regardless in coming over to Sena's apartment. Hiruma ran a weary hand through his damp hair. He must have broke into a fever during the night. It must have been bad; he couldn't even remember being moved.

Sena's apartment was a tiny thing, but it was perfect for a college student. His time away in America had given him a taste for independence and he had moved out of his parents' home almost as soon as he came back to Japan. Hiruma was extremely grateful for this. Their late night excursions would have been much more difficult to handle if Sena didn't have his own privacy; Hiruma was loath to let anyone know where he lived even after all these years so he had ventured hard in finding the apartment and making the deal for Sena.

"You're awake!"

Hiruma almost jumped when Sena came into the room. The younger man smiled shyly at him as he placed his hand on Hiruma's forehead. The cool touch was inviting and Hiruma leaned into it unconsciously.

"Seems like you're still running a slight fever," remarked Sena. He started to pull his hand away when Hiruma grabbed it. Running a slim finger over the smaller digits, he held the hand loosely while unleashing a wicked grin on Sena. The younger man bit his lip. "H-Hiruma-san…"

"It's too bad I feel like crap otherwise I'd be much more forward," replied Hiruma, leering at Sena inappropriately.

His former charge only smiled in embarrassment while shaking his head helplessly. Hiruma didn't know when it was that he started to love that smile. It was uniquely his and he was fast becoming possessive over it. Sena didn't look at anyone else like that and Hiruma wanted it to remain that way.

Heedless of his partner's health, Hiruma pulled Sena in for a deep kiss. It was probably because his own body temperature was already elevated that Sena's mouth felt so good against his. He pressed in with his tongue and grinned to himself when Sena opened up to him with no resistance. It had taken a long time for Sena to get used to kissing like this. Hiruma didn't know how it was possible since the younger man had been unexpectedly willing to do everything else. But even though Sena had been the one to initiate their first kiss, every one after that had been started by Hiruma.

Sena withdrew first. He was smiling in his usual humble manner, averting his eyes from Hiruma.

"I wanted to show you something," he said.

Hiruma watched as he went to the other side of the bed and pulled away the curtains from the single window. Sena's apartment was located on the third floor of the complex and from his small window Hiruma could clearly see the snow that had piled up outside. It was a gray morning and fat, white snowflakes continued to drift down slowly from the swollen skies. Hiruma smiled a little and raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's just snow."

Sena shook his head. "It's the first major snowfall this entire season. And I get to share it with Youichi," he said without taking his eyes off the winter wonderland.

Hiruma crept up behind him while pulling a blanket from the bed pile and wrapping it around both of them. He pressed a feathery kiss to Sena's neck and held him tight.

--

_If corporate world is hell, I guess that makes me the goddamn devil_

--

The sun pours through the glass panes like rain. The warm light fills the entire office and bathes everything in a soft glow. It's midday and the streets below are bustling with traffic and pedestrians. The rush below reminds him of something from the past. There's a flash of memory in his mind. Bodies colliding against each other with maximum force, no regard at all for physical well-being. Grunts and wild calls. A pass off to the figure behind him. Then a charging force down a long field and he's staring at that jersey number like it's a lifeline…

The gum pops around Hiruma's mouth and he curses. He spits into the garbage pail below his desk and pulls out another stick. A guy like him shouldn't be daydreaming like a schoolgirl, but memory can be a hard thing to let go. The real problem is that Hiruma isn't sure if he _wants _to let it go. For two fucking years he's been holding onto this memory. He starts to think that he must be some sort of masochistic idiot.

"Hiruma, the calls have been made. We'll probably have to wait a few days before the Americans respond."

Yukimitsu enters the office without knocking. Here's a fellow whose physical inability is more than compensated by his business sense. It's a talent that even Yukimitsu hadn't been aware of until he entered college. Not that Hiruma is complaining. He's grateful he can have such a reliable partner. Thank God Yukimitsu gave up becoming a physician. Hiruma's a genius in his own right but it would have much harder getting by these two years without assistance.

Looking over the calm expression on his friend's face, Hiruma can't resist from grinning.

"Well, look at you. Have you forgotten your manners, fucking baldy?" he taunts.

For a second, the old Yukimitsu shows himself and he stammers. "I…" Then he catches Hiruma's teasing eye. He straightens a little. "Well, if no one stands up to you at least a little then we're all doomed," he says with a smile.

Hiruma rests back in his seat and stretches his gaze over his office. It's nothing special, but it's more than enough for him. The company is small and takes up only a floor in this tall skyscraper in the middle of Tokyo, but it's growing quickly. The anticipation sets his blood on fire. Hiruma can't remember the last time he was looking forward to something so passionately. But like always, the emotion never shows itself on his face. Only those who really know him would be able to see that simmering spark in his eye. Hiruma knows that Yukimitsu can see it, but the baldy's just as excited as him so it doesn't matter.

"You think we got a chance?"

It's a rhetorical question. Hiruma knows the answer. His company is no small fry and if the Americans turn down his proposal, they would the biggest idiots in the world. Still, there's always a chance for failure. Not everything always goes to plan. Hiruma knows that very well by now. He looks over at his laptop. The webpage lists the stats of one certain player. Hiruma already knows all the facts. The only reason he's on the page is because of the picture, and that makes Hiruma laugh to himself; he can't help but wonder if he's becoming sentimental.

"I don't want to sound too optimistic, but I think we've got a real shot," comes Yukimitsu's practical reply. But there's a hint of eagerness in his voice that Hiruma can relate with all too easily. "I never thought I would go back to American football like this, but… It's great nonetheless—even if I'm not on the playing field."

Hiruma exits the webpage and looks at Yukimitsu. "Don't start breaking into tears on me," he retorts dryly. He turns and looks out the window. The company is located on the fifteenth floor and the Tokyo skyline is outlined in all its glory. Hiruma rests his chin in his hand as he stares at the glittering buildings. "It's only halftime. We still got a long way to go," he says quietly.

Yukimitsu only smiles.

--

_You always gotta lose something before realizing how much you wanted it_

--

Hiruma turned the key and opened the door. He wasn't surprised by the moving boxes stacked neatly in the middle of the living room floor. The air had a fresh pine scent to it. The wooden floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights. Hiruma nudged a box with his foot, a strange smile on his face. He wasn't surprised at all.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

He looked up as Sena entered the room. Hiruma stared at him for a long blank moment. The younger man was dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He looked remarkably the same as he did back in Deimon. Hiruma tapped the box with his foot again. It was light. Probably nonessentials. No difference really. He pressed hard on the side until the box tipped over with a quiet thud.

"I'm just impressed you managed to keep it from me this whole time," he said impassively.

Sena threw him an injured look. Hiruma ignored it.

"I asked Clifford-san to mention it to no one until I was ready."

Hiruma raised an eyebrow. "Ah…that fucking brat."

He was being unreasonably cold. He couldn't help it. He knew their time would eventually come up, but for it to happen so suddenly like this… Hiruma didn't like surprises one bit and he didn't enjoy being slighted by that monster called coincidence. He looked at Sena. He could tell the running back was despairing. Good. At least Hiruma wasn't the only one.

"Awfully convenient timing. Right after our game. Your team finally conquered the finals and you won't even be participating in the Rice Bowl?"

Sena watched him with sad eyes. "I…asked Clifford-san to extend my time. The Rice Bowl just wasn't possible, but I wanted to at least fight against you one more time before I went. That was my single condition."

Despite the situation, Hiruma laughed. "They're offering you a tryout for an NFL team and _you_ asked for a fucking _condition_?" He was impressed by Sena's gall. Impressed and proud.

"I think even Clifford-san was surprised. And I think that's why he gave me the extra time," replied Sena, smiling a little.

The soft-spoken words alleviated the tightness in Hiruma's chest. It was so _Sena_ to be simultaneously humble and demanding. That contrasting nature of his had always appealed to Hiruma's devilish personality.

His gum was running dry. He spat out the piece in his mouth, watching it land squarely on a moving box, before pulling out a new stick. Catching Sena's exasperated look, Hiruma smiled to himself.

"You better fucking appreciate the opportunity. Most of us will never have the pleasure," he said, voice hard and direct.

Sena nodded wordlessly. His head was bowed. Hiruma knew that stance well. He was going to say something. Some type of declaration. Number 21 was coming out to play.

"I…" The words faltered but Hiruma only waited. Sena had never let him down. "I really want this."

It was hardly a revelation. Hiruma narrowed his gaze on the smaller man. "I'd call you a liar if you didn't," he replied in an offhanded drawl.

But the eyes that suddenly pierced him offered a different explanation. Hiruma's mouth stopped chewing for a second. "Aah…I see," he said. He chuckled to himself but he didn't know what he found so funny. He turned his back to Sena, unable to bear his face any longer. "You're a real selfish bastard."

The next few minutes clung onto Hiruma like a second skin. He was an absolute coward. When it came to the really important stuff, he could never do anything. First Musashi and now Sena. Maybe he wasn't so different from his father after all. Then slender arms encircled him from behind and Hiruma felt warm breaths brush between his shoulder blades; the tension slipped away from him in an instant. He hated how Sena could do that to him. A strong hand pressed itself against his heart.

"I'm sorry. I'm selfish aren't I? I don't want to choose but I know that I can't…have everything."

It was the most direct reference to their relationship Sena had ever made. It was through conscious choice Hiruma never put any focus on what they shared; he couldn't even begin to comprehend it himself so he wasn't about to place ridiculous labels on it. Sena had always followed his lead. For nearly three years they had danced around the giant elephant in the room. They were lovers but they weren't tied to each other. No promises had been made. No expectations were held. But all of that was already there, Hiruma realized too late. At least it was on his side. He couldn't read Sena when it came to this. He just…always assumed. And it seemed he had been right. The bittersweet victory had no taste in his mouth.

"I won't ask you for anything. This is just…" The wetness seeping through his shirt didn't lie, but Hiruma feigned ignorance anyway. For Sena's sake. For his own. "Goodbye."

The final word was a mere whisper. Hiruma could have laughed if only his heart would stop crying. He wanted to say something. The phrases and sentences were jumbled in his head, but he knew that if he really tried he could've gotten them out. But Hiruma only grasped the hand clenched so tightly around his heart, his own grip just as desperate even if he didn't know it.

"Match end," he said in a hush.

There were no winners.

--

_But those who fall eventually rise_

--

Hiruma stands with hands in pockets. The suit is tailored to perfection, outlining his lithe figure tastefully without standing out too much. The midnight tones swallow up the sun's rays, but Hiruma doesn't mind the heat. His attention is focused solely on the racing track before him. August in Albany means summer training for this particular football team, and Hiruma's been planning this moment since before graduation. There's only one man on the race track. The slender figure circles the track in smooth motions, never stopping, never faltering. Hiruma's eyes are as transfixed as they were that day over eight years ago.

A couple of girls walk past him, giggling and talking. He feels their eyes sweep over his figure and ignores them. College students staying at the university for the summer—he doesn't even acknowledge them. A sense of fantasy falls over him. He's been looking forward to this day for so long that he can't believe it's finally here. Hiruma isn't sure if he's about to piss his pants or jump for joy. People think he's untouchable, but he experiences the same emotions as anyone else. The main difference for him is that he can hide all his insecurities behind the best poker face. Even now he stands among the stained white bleachers in cool glory. Only Hiruma knows that his pulse quickens with each passing second, that the sweat gathering behind his neck isn't due only to the summer heat.

He begins walking down the steps to reach the level of the track. The runner keeps sprinting, his stamina endless. As Hiruma approaches ground level, he can see the face. The runner's head is bowed and he has earphones glued to the sides of his head so he doesn't pay any mind to his observer. That's fine for Hiruma. He doesn't mind watching for a few more minutes. It's peaceful and nostalgic. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top of his crisp collar. Then he goes back to watching.

It's almost comedic when the runner finally notices him. Hiruma doesn't bother hiding his smirk when he almost trips. But Kobayakawa Sena has learned something of grace in his years with the NFL, and he catches himself with ease. The shock remains in his face, though. Hiruma waits as Sena finally jogs up to him. He catches the beads of sweat rolling down the younger man's neck. He's dressed in runner's shorts and a sleeveless jersey. The sight is intoxicating.

For a while they stare at each other. Hiruma sees Sena's mouth open and then close, utterly flabbergasted. A wicked grin paints Hiruma's face as he speaks.

"It's been two years, eight months, fifteen days, twelve hours, and ten minutes…"

This overtime match is about to reach its end.


	2. Capture

_Thanks to those who reviewed! Without further ado, the final half!_

**Tiebreaker**

Second Half

--

_I've always been the shy one_

--

Sena was a mess.

He should've been helping out Riku and Koutarou with the arrangements for their next game, but there was no way he could've been any good to them now. It should never have happened. He never thought something like this _would _ever happen. He'd seen injuries during matches and practices but this was too unbelievable. Too painful and too sudden. He didn't know how Riku and Koutarou could remain so strong, so unwavering. In comparison, Sena felt utterly useless. The entire team morale was hanging by a nail and he couldn't do a single thing.

They'd finally gotten back at Saikyoudai for beating them last year, but the celebration had been cut short when Unsui had been caught in a highway accident. It was late night and the roads were mostly clear until one driver had swerved unexpectedly into Unsui's lane to collide none too gently with his car. The driver was ruled drunk and had gotten away with a concussion and broken arm. Unsui had gotten away with massive internal damage and organ failure.

It'd been three days since the accident and the team was a wreck. Kurita tried to keep a positive spirit but even Mizumachi's normal enthusiasm was dampened. They'd been to the hospital as a team, waiting in turns to enter Unsui's room, but despite the doctor's hope they remained in a sort of limbo. Sena visited perhaps more than anyone else due to his proximity. And because Unsui was a friend he'd come to trust a lot with over the past year.

He sat outside Unsui's room now, head in his palms. The sight didn't get any easier to bear. Sena was used to seeing the quarterback so robust and infallible. The man that he'd just seen was a mere shadow. It brought back painful memories of another time, with another quarterback. Sena knew that there was nothing he could have done to prevent Unsui's accident, but that Hakushyuu match… It was the same terrible shock.

Sena felt rather than heard someone approaching and glanced up. He immediately straightened and wiped his eyes. He was being incredibly weak. But only in front of _him_ did he make every conscious effort to appear all right. Because… Because it was him. Because Sena had been conditioned by him to hide pain and vulnerability. Because everyone else would understand and pat him on the back, but he would only scold him and tell him to be stronger. Because Sena knew that despite everything he did, he would still know right off the bat what was wrong.

"You planning to become his permanent watchdog or what?" greeted Hiruma.

The older man was the epitome of self-control. Sena always admired that about him. Even after his training in America, he could never quite master his emotions the way Hiruma could. Sena didn't know what was going on underneath that calculating gaze, but he knew why Hiruma was there.

"I can't seem to leave him for some reason," he said softly. "I'm afraid if I leave, something will happen and I…"

Hiruma stopped right in front of him. Sena stared at the denim-clad legs before him and tilted his head back to peer up at Hiruma. His expression was neutral, but he pulled one hand out of his coat pocket and pointed a slim finger at him.

"You're not giving him enough credit. You really think something as trifling as a car accident is gonna keep Unsui down? He's had to deal with the fucking dread for most of his life. It'd be pathetic if he didn't make it out of this."

It was like something in his chest moved. Sena felt both relieved and pressured. He knew Hiruma was right of course. He knew he was being too pessimistic and that Unsui wouldn't have wanted him to waste his time in the hospital, but he couldn't. Couldn't leave. Couldn't move. Couldn't breathe until his friend was awake and lecturing the team again. Because that was right. Unsui was a friend. He was the leader of their football team, but it was more than that too. Some things he could never tell Monta or Riku, but Unsui had always been there and Sena had found a true confidante in him. He wasn't a normal acquaintance and these weren't normal circumstances. Sena felt his shoulders tremble, watched as Hiruma's face blurred in the edges of his vision.

Then someone was holding him. Sena buried his face in the crook of Hiruma's neck, both frustrated and embarrassed. The hospital was eerily quiet and deserted. Sena was grateful for this. He clung onto Hiruma unabashedly, his quiet sobs unheard by all except the one holding him.

--

_I'm no warrior, but I'll fight until the end_

--

Playing a game on American soils will always remain a surreal experience for Sena.

The roar of the crowds is like a drug that pervades his senses from the moment he steps on the field; it's addicting and the adrenaline rushes forth without inhibition, turning him into a different person. When he's on the field, Sena _changes_. It's a fact. And he loves every second of it.

The game ends with his team's victory. He scores the final touchdown in an exhilarating run. The stands are overturned, the spectators on their feet, cheering and jumping. A game is never quite complete without at least one of Eyeshield 21's long runs. Sena doesn't fail to please them. He relishes the feeling of the grass and dirt under his feet, the looming threat of enemies hovering on the periphery. It makes victory that much sweeter.

After the game, he's still on a high but he departs from the stadium first. Sena almost never lingers for long. All the extra energy that pumps through his body needs an outlet, so he runs after every game. His team teases him for this, but they respect—and admire—his physicality so they let him go while shouting catcalls behind his back. Once outside, Sena reverts back to his normal self for the most part. Dressed in sweats and a light hoodie, most people never recognize him.

The pavement grounds him back to Earth, and Sena begins to calm down after several minutes of light jogging. He's working up a decent sweat now and he considers another ten minutes of running before heading out on the closest train back home. As he turns the corner, surprise hits him, and he halts to a stop.

"Yo. Good game."

The casual hand wave and smile jerk Sena back to reality and he grins. "Riku!" he exclaims in perfect astonishment and pleasure. He runs over to his friend and laughs. "What… How did you…?"

His usual stammering has begun and Riku recognizes it with a twinkle in his eye.

"Just decided to pop by for a visit," he explains before Sena embarrasses himself too much. "My dad had business to attend here and I decided to come along. I found out from Panther about your post-game ritual so it wasn't hard to track you down. You've gotten faster again, though."

Sena smiles bashfully. "Ah, well… Running helps me calm down after games…"

Riku grins. "I'm not criticizing you; I'm complimenting you."

They walk down the street where a Starbucks is located. Sena orders a coffee but doesn't drink it; caffeine affects his mind in strange ways so he only holds the plastic cup. In contrast, Riku takes healthy draws from his frappuccino while they converse. Seeing his old friend so suddenly reminds Sena of how much he misses everyone else and Riku is more than willing to convey all the latest news.

"Are you happy, Sena?"

Blinking in surprise, Sena can only look questioningly at Riku. His friend laughs.

"I mean, it was worth it, right? You've got no regrets coming here to America?"

Riku's in older brother mode right now and Sena feels gratitude. He's made a few good friends during his stint here, but he can never forget the ones he left behind in Japan. Though Sena wouldn't trade his luck and fortune for all the world, he craves that simple life sometimes. And then there's—God, but he hates his weakness. Sena puts on a convincing smile. He's not sure who he's trying to convince, though.

"It was worth it, Riku," he says slowly. "And I'm happy. I really am."

Riku nods. "Good."

--

_Love is…something I don't think anyone will ever understand_

--

It was times like these when Sena began to have serious doubts.

He stood by the door to the bedroom, staring at the blond man currently entangled within his sheets whilst in peaceful slumber. It was rare for Hiruma to ever appear unthreatening, and only Sena was privy to these moments. He leaned his head against the doorpost, smiling to himself unconsciously. Hiruma put on a mask for the world, and Sena couldn't begin to understand how he became that one exception.

That was why he was growing more and more anxious by the day.

It was all fine and dandy for a while. A whole year in fact. Sena had contented himself in allowing Hiruma to "court" him. But it was never really courting. It wasn't even a proper relationship. It was…a clandestine affair. Everything was unspoken just as everything was laid out. Sena never imagined that _he _would engage in something so primordial, so physical. Before Hiruma, all the experience he had was a couple of dates during his stay at Notre Dame. The girls in America were bold and Sena couldn't turn them down; they were similar to Hiruma in that sense. Though he had shared a few kisses, it was nothing compared to the way he was now. Being with Hiruma was changing him.

But he still couldn't talk about it.

It wasn't for lack of trying. He'd made subtle references about it, censoring his words as much possible, but Hiruma brushed them off with ease. Eventually, Sena stopped trying. It was Hiruma. The man was a devil, but he wouldn't go parading around their exploits. And it was…nice. Somehow or another, Sena didn't object to Hiruma's advances—found himself enjoying them actually. But it was getting to be too much. Especially after Unsui's accident. He'd been a wreck during that time, and he had even stalked Hiruma back to his own apartment. Sena didn't think he had it in him, but sometimes he thought that maybe he was the real demon. Ever since that night, things had changed between them. Or maybe it was his perspective that had changed. He wasn't about to consider the l word, but… Sena knew that he was falling rapidly. And deeply.

"Do you plan on standing all night?"

The scratchy voice brought a smile to Sena's face despite his concerns. "No. I'm sorry; I was just thinking."

At this, Hiruma was roused and he stretched out his body lazily to regard him with piercing eyes. "I told you to leave that to me. With your brain, the task would overwhelm you," he said in a drawl.

Sena blushed, ducking his head. Hiruma always knew what to say to make him feel like a child again. He wasn't complaining, though. Was he always this masochistic or did being with Hiruma make him this way? Sena frequently debated the answer with himself.

"Practice was rough today," he said, changing the topic abruptly. "Agon-san is…a difficult person to work with."

He knew Hiruma would recognize the maneuver for what it was—a retreat—but the blond didn't say anything. It was how things were between them. Nonverbal. Intangible. Fragile. Sena was confused, but he knew one thing for certain: He didn't want to lose this. Lose Hiruma. God, but when had that happened? Sena almost laughed at himself. He was a far cry from that little fifteen-year-old boy.

Hiruma sat up, the bed sheets pooling around his waist and keeping him decent. Even then Sena continued staring at him. He never thought he could desire a man's body so much, but here he was, all but drooling. Hiruma had a slender build despite all the training he did, and his skin was utterly flawless. Sometimes all Sena wanted to do was trace that skin with his lips, but Hiruma always kept him moving. Maybe one day…

"I should be resentful that one of my players left to join a rival team, but I'm not going to miss that fucking dread one bit. Good luck with him. You'll need it."

The older man spoke in calm tones. He was in a placid mood it seemed. That was also rare. Hiruma didn't speak much in normal conversations so Sena often felt like a chatterbox in comparison. It was a shame too. Sena loved learning more about the quarterback. He had a feeling that if he hadn't followed Hiruma back home that night, they would never be here now. In Hiruma's apartment. Sharing his bed, his sanctuary. Sena knew what a major step this was. He was secretly ecstatic and reserved. Hiruma didn't give his secrets lightly. Sena wondered if he would ever get to learn another one.

"It's nice, though. He transferred to Enma so he could support Unsui. Of course he'll never admit that out loud, but we all know the truth. It's worth putting up with his attitude I suppose."

Hiruma raised an eyebrow. "If you're going to talk about him all night, I'm just going back to sleep."

Sena smiled and walked over to the bed. Hiruma extended his hand and Sena took it, allowing the older man to pull him in. Warm fingertips brushed across his cheek. "I can think of more interesting things to do," he said thickly. Sena felt the blood rush downward as Hiruma wrapped his tongue around his finger.

"H-Hiruma-san…"

"Starting that up again, huh? And I thought we had moved past that…" Hiruma's lips moved steadily against his neck, probing every sensitive nerve. Sena succumbed willingly to the persuasive gesture.

It sounded almost like disappointment, the way Hiruma just spoke. Sena filed that away for future's sake. He knew he was damned. But nothing was certain anyway so why shouldn't he just enjoy this while it lasted?

"Youichi," he whispered as Hiruma made his way down to his navel.

Sena thought he felt him freeze when he said his name, but Hiruma resumed his pace a second later. He could feel it in the way Hiruma moved, though. He was pleased. And that made Sena happy. He knew it was dangerous to invest so much emotion in such precarious business, but he ignored the warnings.

He'd learned from the best after all. Sometimes risks were meant to be made.

--

_I know I shouldn't, but I always look back just in case_

--

It's still late spring, but summer wishes to make its arrival early this year. Sena undoes the top buttons of his suit, having undone the tie an hour ago. He's known for always appearing immaculate and proper, but the building's broken AC gets the best of him and he forgoes common courtesy. The meeting isn't anything too formal anyway so the representatives don't even spare him a glance.

The World Cup. Sena feels his blood rise just by hearing its name. This is one of his favorite times of the year; thus, he willingly partakes in the numerous press conferences and interviews despite his reserve. Sena likes to believe he's become better at facing the public now, though. Of course, whenever Panther calls him a day after a certain interview or whatnot to tease him, he's forced to reconsider the alternative.

This summer promises a number of young potentials, and Sena looks forward to it with much anticipation. For the first time ever, he'll be one of the judges on the panel. It's a tremendous feat to be sure since even Panther has never been offered a seat. Sena imagines the committee nominated him because of his team's most recent success at the Super Bowl; this past year was an especially memorable one for him. Sena broke and set new records, and even though he remains completely humble of the fact, he's aware of his growing international appeal. He's just grateful for the chance to directly participate in the judging.

The meeting turns in quickly and Sena stands up. He catches Clifford's eye and he bows his head a little. His manners are still all too Japanese sometimes, and his team likes to tease him for that, but Clifford nods politely and gestures for him to approach. The older man is just as intimidating as ever, but Sena has had the opportunity to acquaint himself more familiarly with him over the past two years; there's much more under the surface, and Sena has too much experience with a certain man to be put off by Clifford's austere personality.

"I just saw the punk yesterday at a press conference. He was introducing his company to the public," he begins without prelude. "He's risen fast hasn't he?"

Sena just blinks.

Clifford regards him severely. "You didn't know? About Hiruma?" he asks sharply.

Hearing the name jolts Sena, and he struggles to keep himself under control. "No. What about him?"

"His organization is one of sponsors of this year's Cup. JSMF. Japanese Sports Merit Foundation. It's a nonprofit organization that he founded two years ago by himself. He's got five major branches in Japan that seek out young talents and promote athletic programs in schools. His organization also participated in the X-Japan Bowl last year. They made it to the semifinals on their first try. Very promising. I hear Hiruma's planning on opening other branches in China and South Korea soon."

Sena cannot speak for several seconds. The sheer enormity of Hiruma's success astounds him. He isn't surprised, of course, but he is filled with so much pride and warmth towards the other man that he's rendered speechless. He hasn't heard anything of Hiruma since he came to America. Phone calls and emails are ignored. All he ever heard from Mamori or Monta was that Hiruma had gone into business and that it was flourishing well. Sena smiles to himself.

"So he's…doing okay then."

Clifford arches an eyebrow. "I'd say better than 'okay'. Then again, that brat was always a sneaky bastard. I gotta wonder if there's another reason why he's doing this. He seems to be in a hurry to me."

Sena frowns at him. "Why do you say that?"

"For a whole year he ran the organization—_company_—alone and solely on the Internet. Then suddenly he erupts from out of nowhere with his first branch in Tokyo, and within six months, manages to open four more locations throughout Japan. I know Hiruma's resourceful, but he must have been working overtime to accomplish all this in such short time. Why, though?" Clifford shrugs and shakes his head. "Makes no difference I suppose. Guess we'll be seeing more of him soon."

It's a mystery. Sena doesn't know what to think. No one can predict Hiruma's actions, and his intentions are seldom revealed until the end. He can't resist his excitement at Clifford's words, however. _Guess we'll be seeing more of him soon. _Sometimes he thinks he hasn't matured at all during his tenure in America. The words shouldn't give him hope. Sena was the one who cut all ties between them in the first place. He shouldn't be so selfish. You can't go back to the past. And he doesn't want the past, Sena realizes. He wants…so much more.

Clifford bids his farewell. "Impressive, that guy. I acknowledge it. Don't you start holding back either."

No, he won't. Sena stares at the empty boardroom. Without a word, he turns off the lights and leaves.

--

_You tend to ignore the wise when you're in over your head_

--

"We are so gonna beat them _max_!"

Sena looked over at Monta with an exasperated smile. "Nothing's certain yet, Monta," he replied.

Monta rolled his eyes at him. "Sena, you're too soft. This is an important match, yeah? It's Unsui's return game! And with Agon aboard, you really think we're gonna lose? We can't afford to!"

It was a bittersweet fact. They had finally beat Saikyoudai last year, but lost the Koshien Bowl anyway. The team had been too divided and affected by Unsui's accident to perform their best, and the loss of their quarterback was a real blow to their usual tactics. Sena had done his best to improvise, but the game still ended with them lacking a point. But this year… Sena didn't want to jinx their luck, but he had a good feeling they would be able to do it. Go all the way to the Rice Bowl.

They made their way to the gym and stopped at the entrance when they heard voices inside.

"What kind of pushup is that? I had that giant Yamabushi on me and I still did more than you!"

"I've already done ten sets, Agon. And why are you still here? Don't you have…a date or something?"

"_Aah_? You think I'm here because I want to be? The game's next week and your shitty team's lucky it's managed to get by with the little trash as quarterback, but that luck ain't gonna hold against Saikyoudai. So you better be ready, Unko-chan."

"Yes, yes…"

Sena and Monta shared grins. Clearing his throat, Monta took a big step and entered the gym. Sena followed after him. Unsui and Agon were located in the back where the mats were laid out. Agon sat on the weight machine watching Unsui's progress with disdain. His eyes drifted to Monta's direction and he sneered at him.

"The jumping maniac. What the hell are you doing here?"

To his credit, Monta didn't rise to the bait. Agon had been with the team almost a year, and they'd all had to adapt to his acerbic personality or else risk fighting him all the time. It had been a long and hard trial, but a balance had been reached more or less.

"Are you ready for the game, Unsui-san?" replied Monta, ignoring Agon completely.

It was the best strategy against Agon. Monta employed it with a kind of glee that worried Sena sometimes, but Agon had yet to do any of them serious harm. Even now all he did was glare at the younger receiver. Time changed people in many different ways.

Unsui smiled. "As ready as I'll ever be," he answered calmly.

Agon's attention returned to his brother. "What kind of spineless talk is that?" he snapped.

"Oi, Unsui-san's the leader of our team. You shouldn't talk to him like that," cried out Monta.

"What the hell would you know? You're just a receiver."

"Yeah, but I can catch more balls than you!"

Agon's eyes glinted from underneath his shades. "You really want to test that claim?"

Monta straightened up proudly. "The baseball team's holding practice in the field," he suggested in a casual tone.

The younger Kongou twin stood up and began walking with Monta in tow. Sena only stepped aside from their stormy path and shook his head.

"Unko-chan, you better keep that strength up or I'll hunt your ass down later!" called out Agon as he and Monta left the gym, still arguing amongst themselves.

Sena watched them leave. It amazed him sometimes how as scary and dangerous Agon could be, deep down he was still very much like a child. Monta had been terrified of him in the beginning, but now he was the one constantly presenting pointless challenges to Agon. And the older man _accepted_ them too. Sena didn't understand him at all.

"My brother's changed since he came here," said Unsui from out of the silence. He sat up and began stretching. "I'm not sure what kind of monster he is now."

Sena walked over to him. The surgical scars that marred Unsui's abdomen and side stood out in the stark light. "Are you ready?" he asked, repeating Monta's earlier question. But he knew that Unsui's reply then had only been polite.

Unsui smiled at him. "As ready as I ever will be, Sena," he replied honestly.

The words and smile lessened his concerns. "We'll get Saikyoudai again."

"That we will," agreed Unsui. He watched Sena carefully. "But what are you going to do?"

Sena knew at once what he was talking about. He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. The email he had received from Clifford two days ago weighed heavily on his mind and he still had yet to reply. He knew that such an opportunity would never come again, but he couldn't make up his mind. There was still so much here that he wanted to settle.

"I don't know," he said slowly. He gave a weak smile. "I want to go to the Rice Bowl with you guys finally."

"No, it's not just that. It's _someone _you don't want to leave just yet," stated Unsui without preamble. He took a swig from his water bottle. "You've got to make the choice, Sena."

Unsui had an effortless knack for hitting the truth. It was a valuable trait and Sena had come to rely upon it greatly. There was no one else he could talk to when it came to Hiruma. Monta was never a consideration. While he knew that Sena's romantic interests weren't restricted to one pathway, he would have had a conniption if he ever heard about his relations with their former captain. Riku probably would have understood, but Sena didn't have the heart to tell his old friend. Most of the times, Riku still thought of him as the same innocent, naïve boy from yesteryear and Sena couldn't bear to shatter his conceptions. Suzuna was also never an option. Sena knew she still harbored a crush on him, and he didn't want to hurt her. It was the same with Mamori, only her feelings were directed towards Hiruma. Sena didn't know if that was still the case, but it would have been too risky nonetheless.

Then one day after practice, Sena had been left behind with only Unsui and the whole truth came spilling out. He should have been mortified, but the older man had taken what he said into confidence and relayed his own words of advice in return. And then the rest was history.

Sena was lucky he had such good friends.

"I'm gonna take the offer. I know I will, but I don't think I could bear leaving so soon."

"Why don't you tell him how you feel?"

It was an age old question. Unsui had asked it many times before and Sena had always given pathetic reasons. But the answer boiled down to a simple explanation.

"I'm afraid. If I say something, it changes everything. I couldn't handle it if he decided to leave."

Unsui shot him a wry look. "So _you're_ leaving instead? You'd rather cling onto this illusion than face reality?"

Sena folded his hands and looked at the floor. "This illusion has been one of the best things that's ever happened to me."

--

_False hope can kill someone—or save them_

--

The gathering of reporters and spectators grows with alarming speed. The sight of all the business suits and press passes unnerves Sena and he backs away from the glass view, sighing deeply. He adjusts his own suit with some discomfort and watches the proceedings below him. Sena doesn't mind the publicity most of the time, but media gatherings like this always bring out the shiest in him. Even at twenty-three he remains the most introverted member of his team and has attained notoriety for being the most difficult football player to interview ever. There are few anchors he feels comfortable enough to speak with naturally so he's become incredibly selective with whom he speaks. Nonetheless, the public forgives him his ill manners. They know that when he goes onto the field as number 21, they're in for the real show.

Sena plays with his tie again when he sees Panther walking up to him, waving his arm excitedly. He laughs as the taller player hugs him unceremoniously in greeting.

"I knew you'd be here away from the vultures! You never change, Sena!" Panther chuckles in good humor as he places an arm around Sena's shoulder. "Clifford is controlling the paparazzi so it's really not that bad. But I know you won't step foot down there."

Panther's laughter dissolves all of the uneasiness in Sena.

They made an odd couple. When Sena emerged as the running back for an eastern board team, the public all thought they would be at each other's throats. But while acknowledging each other as rivals, Sena and Panther were the best of friends. Sena often felt Panther was a kindred spirit and though they competed on the field mercilessly, there was never any discord between them afterwards. Eventually, they made names for themselves and the media loved to cover their unlikely friendship. When the reporters discovered that friendship had gone so far back as to their high school years, they'd been ecstatic and dubbed them as the "Best Rivals."

The politics of sports often went over Sena's head—as it did Panther's—so they both just went along with what reporters said and laughed about it behind their backs.

"I can't believe it. Another year, another World Cup!"

Sena smiles at Panther. "I'm still waiting for Japan to win one of these days," he replies.

Panther looks at him aghast. "Sena! You're on American soils now—you can't be saying such traitorous things!" he says in mock surprise.

Sena laughs. Sometimes he wonders what he would have done if he didn't have friends like Panther when he arrived in the States almost three years ago. He'd mastered English on the conversational level during his stay in his third year of high school, but the country was large and remained mostly a mystery to him. He'd only been to New York once during his stay for the World Cup and to discover the city was to be his new home had been a major shift for him. Clifford had been a surprisingly good host for a couple of weeks before he departing to regroup with his own team in San Antonio. Then Panther himself stopped by later on and that was when Sena really felt like he could make New York City his new home. When he met his teammates, the deal was set and Sena knew where he belonged.

This is his fourth team in his life. It's remarkable since he's only been playing for a little over eight years. All those teammates and every single one of them he considers a brother. But there's always been one that sticks out the most in his memory. Sena usually tries his best to forget him because it brings too much pain, but it never works. Hiruma Youichi is not a man you can easily forget. Especially recently. Sena is in constant reminder of the former quarterback's presence due to the upcoming World Cup. It doesn't surprise Sena that Hiruma's managed to form his own company and rise up in the market to become prominent enough to be one of their sponsors; there seemed to be nothing the man couldn't do when he put his mind up to it. But the sudden reappearance brings Sena back to his final days with Hiruma, and those aren't memories he's particularly fond of recalling.

He wonders sometimes if he should have tried harder. For three years he'd slept with Hiruma, made love to him, shared a part of his being with the man, and he had waited until the last moment to say anything meaningful. It was the most complex relationship Sena ever had—or probably ever will. And to think _he _had been the one to initiate it. There were times Sena wished he'd never accepted those drinks from Monta. They had lost; they shouldn't have been celebrating that night. And why of all places had Hiruma's team been there at the same time? Destiny or coincidence. Either one was a bitch.

"…spoken to him?"

Sena blinks out of his reverie and looks at Panther. "I'm sorry?"

The other man laughs and slaps him on the back. "I asked if you heard from Hiruma? Surprised the hell out of me when I saw his name up there as one of the sponsors. It was like, where did he come?"

Sena smiles humbly, shrugging one shoulder. "I haven't heard from him at all. I was just as surprised as you. No one back at home ever mentioned anything to me."

Which is something else that sets off alarms. Despite Monta's fervent claims, Sena can't help his suspicions. But Juumonji and Mamori also prove to be dead ends. Perhaps it's because of all the time he spent with Hiruma, but Sena knows this is a setup. He just doesn't understand the purpose.

"That's weird. I thought you guys were friends?"

"Well…" Definitely more than friends. But Panther doesn't need to know everything. Sena prays the other man doesn't notice his blush. "Hiruma…wasn't exactly like most people. He's…"

He waves his hand in a silent gesture and Panther grins.

"Yeah, I remember. The dude was one scary guy. Between him and Clifford, I'd run far, far away if I could."

Sena laughs. Just give him one, though. Just one, and he'd be more than satisfied.

--

_I'm a coward so I can offer only this much_

--

"You could…you could rule the world!"

The words shocked Hiruma into silence. Even Sena wasn't prepared for the sudden outburst from himself. He breathed heavily as he stared at the older man. This wasn't normal. Sena never debated with Hiruma—he didn't even think he had the capacity to argue with _anyone_—but here they were, speaking their minds with no thoughts of censorship. It was invigorating. Sena only wished the issues weren't so serious.

Hiruma's mouth quirked into a half smile. "Rule the world? That's a winner."

The sardonic tone didn't go unheard by Sena and he frowned. For the first time in his life, he was actually angry with the blond. "I'm serious, Youichi," he started. It had taken a long time for him to grow comfortable calling Hiruma by his given name, and even now he used it sparingly. It always brought Hiruma's full attention when Sena called him that and he took advantage of that fact now. "You're the smartest person I know; you could do so much! I just don't want you to waste your gifts."

An adult lecture was something else Sena never did. Whenever his kouhai asked him for advice, he could barely manage a sputtered and awkward reply. But this…this he had to do. He was leaving Japan. He'd made the decision almost as soon as Clifford told him about the opportunity, but it was only now he was starting to realize the gravity of his decision. Sena was going for himself, for his future; he wanted to make sure Hiruma also did something for himself.

"Where is all of this coming from? You're behaving strangely—even for yourself," inquired Hiruma, raising an eyebrow.

The cool and calculating mask was in place again. Sena knew that if he remained for much longer, the truth would come spilling out. And he wasn't ready for that confession yet. He was glad they decided to meet at Hiruma's apartment tonight; it meant that Sena could escape.

"Just…think about yourself more."

He didn't stay to hear the response.

--

_People who wait, but never knew they were waiting, are sometimes rewarded_

--

"It's been two years, eight months, fifteen days, twelve hours, and ten minutes…"

He looks the same. Sena barely processes the words drifting through his ears; his eyes are too preoccupied taking in the unexpected—and truly beautiful—sight before him. The hair's all wrong, but Sena discovers that he's already accepting it without complaint; it makes Hiruma look older, more mature. The suit is a tailored masterpiece; Hiruma always knew how to dress the part. Compared to him, Sena feels exposed and undignified.

The silence threads between them like an iron chain. Sena is all too aware that he should be saying something but he can't even begin to form a coherent thought. Hiruma stands a few feet away from him, an unnavigable distance. The teeth stand out stark white in contrast to the black suit, and Sena is enraptured by the familiar smile. God, has it really been that long? Seeing him like this brings back all the memories in a rush. It feels, and doesn't feel, like it's even been a day.

The track is empty save for the two of them. The afternoon sun is strong and unrelenting; the rising heat makes Sena wonder briefly if he's suffering a hallucination of some kind. But Hiruma is an unwavering presence, and he knows this definitely isn't a mirage. The cramp in his calves is further evidence that this is reality. It's a reality he never knew how much he craved until now. Sena finally speaks.

"What took you so long?"

The question is strangled and full of raw emotion. Sena grows aware of the tears welling up in his eyes; he doesn't brush them aside.

"Ruling the world takes a while even for geniuses."

Hiruma smiles, and it's like something snaps in the air. Sena rushes forward and takes the taller man by the shoulders, crushing their lips together. He hears their teeth click and it's messy and incredibly embarrassing, but the sublime makes it spectacular. When Sena pulls away with a gasp, he sees Hiruma's eyes watching him with uncharacteristic softness. Despite his similar state of breathlessness, Hiruma smirks slowly.

"You realize…that's only the second kiss you've ever given me?"

Sena blinks in surprise. Then he smiles in delight, wrapping his arms around Hiruma's neck. "I guess I have to catch up now," he whispers, pressing their foreheads together.

Hiruma runs a hand through his hair, staring at him with the intensity he reserves for game plays. The toothy grin makes another appearance.

"Touchdown."

End game.


End file.
